You made me feel like I
was something someone could actually
picture themselves being able
to love.
But I'm not.
I am baby teeth,
training wheels,
and first loves;
things we thought we needed.

​
if i could fly,
i’d be coming right back home to you

I let you in

I let the poison take over my body

I let your soul control mine

you cut the flowers from the garden inside me and left only the weeds.

You had me breathing my last breaths and then left, and now

there is a little flower growing inside me.

A friendly reminder that I want to be yours
in your ever present state of bliss and intrigue.
I want to sit under stars
and feel the warmth of your arm on my neck,
as we sit and ponder the possibilities of you and me.
I want to hear your laugh as a welcome home,
good morning,
good night,
hello,
but never as a goodbye.
With laughs and minor accents of home.

You remind me of airports, plotted plants, dogs,
and Saturday morning cartoons.
I remind you of puns, the smell of paper, and your favourite movie.
But I want to  remember you lying on he couch half-asleep
curled up with a pillow
and disheveled hair covering your eyes.
Remembering your sweatpants, long hair, paint stains, and stickers.
Sneaking sandwiches and comics,
text messages, and knowing smiles,
tight hugs.

Just a friendly reminder, to remember me when you leave.

Subject to the inadequacy
as result of one faulty gene that resides within me,
I smile.
I smile with teeth too large for my small mouth,
and dimples like caverns
that remind me
that some holes are meant to be there.

His eyelashes flutter against my cheek, awake,
and I can feel the two years away from him.
He is rainy days and the first snow fall of the year.
He is the first time I lied to my parents,
he is the summer carnival,
and the 3am shoulder to cry on.
He comes when he is meant to come,
and leaves when he is meant to leave.
But that doesn't mean that when he does,
it doesn't hurt, because it did.

And then I realize
that no matter how tightly
he can hold me,
or how many poems I write,
he is the last fallen leaf of autumn,
and I am the first frost of winter.
Almost,
but not quite.